Pressure Points
by Polkadottedgiraffe11
Summary: Mycroft Holmes was not a man to love, a man prone to sentiment, or a man to crave companionship. Until he met ex-Army Ranger & Special Agent Danielle Anderson; she cared little for his intellect, his reputation, or his position. She had her own job & was content with her own position with her own government. But everyone has pressure points. Would she be his? Mycroft/OC
1. The American Agent

No One's POV

Mycroft Holmes didn't do sentiment or affection, particularly in the line of work he was in. After all, look where it had gotten him with Charles Magnussen.

It was not to say, however, he didn't have a heart, it was simply buried deep, deep beneath his Iceman persona and given only to a select few, a _very_ select few. And, even with those it was given to, it was difficult for him to show them he cared, so he covered it up, beneath his intense need to control, to protect, or to insulate, in the case of his parents and Eurus.

Eurus was a secret that he hoped to take to his grave, it wasn't that he _didn't_ love his parents, it was _because_ he loved them that he protected them from the truth, the truth of what Eurus had become; he protected his brother from the harsh truth of his past, and from their murderous and psychotic younger sister who was beyond saving.

All this to say, however, didn't do a lot of good when confronted with one, Special Agent Danielle Anderson.

Mycroft wasn't _blind_ to beauty, he could appreciate a woman's form like one appreciates art, but for the most part he wasn't _interested_. He was a Royal Gramma fish, bright and florescent, in a sea of plain, utterly boring, goldfish. People, not just women, were stupid, and could not match his intellect; he could not put up with pointless and innate nattering and chatter.

Yet, here he was, frantically attempting to try on different suits all the while convincing himself that it didn't matter what he wore _nor_ that he was doing it to impress Special Agent Danielle Anderson.

"Athena, what do you think of this one?" Mycroft asks.

"I think, sir… The same thing as I thought about the last one. Also, that you will be late if you do not hurry." Athena tells her boss, attempting to not be at least slightly amused by the situation; she never thought she'd see the day that Mycroft Holmes, the British Government for all intentions, would be captivated by a woman, let alone trying so hard to impress her.

"I know what you're thinking, Athena. I am not amused." Mycroft gives his P.A a blasé look.

"Of course, sir." Athena offers.

If Athena wasn't the most competent and trusted assistant he had he'd promptly fire her; this was beyond humiliating to have someone else witness his downfall.

"I'd go with that one, sir." Athena finally advises; frankly she wanted this painful process, which had been going on for _over_ an hour, to be over, for everyone's sake, including the tailor, but also, her boss did look better in the one she had advised.

"Very well… I suppose this shall do." Mycroft sniffs.

"Very good, sir. Shall we get going? You wanted to stop by your brother's before the conference." Athena reminds.

The familiar step of his brother's dress shoes and his umbrella walked up the stairs of 221B, creaking louder on the third step from the top before entering the premise, the lighter footsteps of his loyal PA right behind him.

"Hello, brother mine." Mycroft greets his brother.

"What do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock gripes back.

"I have a case for you that I need your aid on." Mycroft tells his brother promptly, never one to make much small talk as he evaluates his brother sitting in his usual chair, looking rather mopey after the events of Charles Magnussen and nearly being shipped off to Eastern Europe; he had killed Charles Magnussen in cold blood, for in what Mycroft considered, a rather undeserving woman, an assassin who had tried to kill him all to secure her own place at John Watson's side, but that was not Mycroft's place to say and he held his tongue and his opinion for once as he knew it was not wanted nor needed.

"_Fine_." Sherlock scoffs once, but does not protest any further as he turns to his older brother. "What is it?"

"Yes- thank you, Athena." Mycroft turns to Athena, muttering quietly. "I will be right there. Just order the gift, please. We will pick it up on our way there." Mycroft nods.

_A new suit, also a new haircut. Mycroft wants to impress someone. But who? Heading to a meeting perhaps? With the PM? A Parliament member? Mycroft is picking up a gift… A foreign delegate, then. After all, why would the PM or a Parliament member need a gift?_

Sherlock is left with more questions than answers as he gazes at his brother and deduces him.

"It should be relatively simple… For you. I simply don't have the time or resources right now." Mycroft offers the file, turning back to his brother. "MI6 is busy. And my other assistants are otherwise incompetent."

"A pity case then?"

"I'm not in the business of such sentiment, brother. The case need to be solved." Mycroft answers. "You have a week. Do let me know what you get. I've got an MI6 training to oversee." Mycroft's steps recede from 221B, finally disappearing out the front door, and the faint sound of a car door shutting is heard.

"Was that your brother, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asks, poking her head in. "I could have made some tea and biscuits… But just this once. I'm not your maid."

"You just missed him, I'm afraid." Sherlock answers. "I'm off, Mrs. Hudson… I've got a case!"

"Excuse me, I'm looking for DI Lestrade." Danielle asks, walking into the bullpen of her best friend's office.

"DI Lestrade? Who's asking?"

"I'm an old friend. I just came into town. As you can see." Danielle answers the curly haired brunette and gestures to the duffle bag on her shoulder.

"His office is right over there. But he's busy." The woman answers.

"That's fine. He won't mind. I promise." Danielle tells the woman, a Detective Sergeant from her uniform and badge, Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan, then, Danielle surmises in her mind.

"_Greg!_" Danielle bursts into her best friend's office with a jubilant cry and bounce to her step.

"Dani!" Greg jumps rather abruptly, nearly dumping his mug of coffee. "What are you doing here?"

"Racking up my frequent flier miles. Can't I see my best friend?" Danielle asks innocently.

"Yes… But you didn't even tell me! My flat is a mess!" Greg waves his hands as if he needed to start making arrangements immediately and return home to clean; he had finally split from his wife and now had a small flat to himself.

"I don't care. Seriously, I don't." Danielle waves off.

"Did you come straight from the airport? Why didn't you call me!?" Greg demands, now noticing her bag.

"Didn't want to bother you. Besides, I know where you work. You're so predictable, Greg." Danielle shrugs.

"I wouldn't have cared. You're my best friend, Dani." Greg is grumpy now, giving his best friend a look.

"The case, Detective Inspector." Sherlock interrupts, a bit perturbed at being interrupted in his meeting with Lestrade.

"Oh, sorry. One of your colleges said you were busy… I think it was Donovan. She didn't say, but I assumed… From what you've told me." Danielle apologies, giving Greg a smirk that hides a glimmer of something else; she was good at deducting things, she hadn't become an Army Ranger nor a Special Agent for her looks after all.

"No, you're fine. Sherlock's being rude." Greg glares at the Consulting Detective.

"Really. I can leave. Actually, I'm here for a work thing. Top secret MI6 stuff." Danielle winks at Greg and holds out a pinkie in a childhood action her and Greg both shared with one another since they were elementary kids both running around in the backyard promising to marry one another.

_Attending MI6 training. Trainings for MI6 teams are held at random frequencies due to security risks and are held at MI6 Black Sites. There are only **twelve** MI6 Black Sites in England. **Two** within an hour's distance of central London. Mycroft was headed to a MI6 Black Site this morning. As I thought earlier, by the state of both his new suit and hair cut he wanted to **impress** someone, but **not** the PM or a Parliament member or he would have worn his normal attire. Not a boss, because Mycroft **was** the boss. It is likely that he could be at the same Black Site. Possible conclusion: Mycroft wanted to impress **her**._

Sherlock's thoughts all but screeched to a halt at that realization.

"MI6 training?" Sherlock interrupts again, snapping back into the present moment.

"Yes, how did you-"

"Do you know Mycroft?"

"Yes. He's often- how do you?" Danielle questions in half sentences, having dismissed the two other people in the room earlier when she came in during her efforts to greet her best friend.

"Dani, this is Sherlock Holmes." Greg steps in before Sherlock can intrude again.

"Ah. The younger brother. Mycroft _has_ mentioned you before." Danielle nods in understanding, her slightly suspicious demeanor instantly relaxing. "Yes, I do know Mycroft."

"Sherlock, John. This is Danielle Anderson. My childhood best friend. She's a Special Agent for the FBI, Joint Counter Terrorism and HRT. Former Lieutenant Colonel for the 75th Army Rangers." Greg introduces. "Quantico has her training agents, but occasionally she'll speak and train others… Like now." Greg was obviously quite proud of his best friend going from the look in his eyes and slight puff in his chest.

"It's really _not_ that big of a deal, Greg."

"_It is_." Greg insists, looking at Danielle with pride. "You practically _wrote_ the book at Quantico."

"_Some_. I helped write some…" Danielle corrects with a laugh. "It was already written _long_ before I got to Quantico."

"Lieutenant Colonel." John immediately snaps into a salute. "Captain John Watson, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you, Captain." Danielle salutes back. "What company did you serve with?"

"Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, ma'am. I was a medic."

"Oh, boy… This was a mistake introducing you two… I can see it already." Greg mutters.

"Oh, shut up, Greg." Danielle laughs. "I really _do_ have to go, however. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. Drop my stuff off with you."

"Yeah, of course! Sure!" Greg offers enthusiastically, pulling his best friend in a hug. "Can I take you over?"

"It's a MI6 _Black Site_, Greg. Thanks for the offer, but you don't have clearance… You're not special enough." Danielle teases, poking her best friend in the side.

"Rude." Greg grumbles. "And after I let you leave your stuff with me."

"I'm meeting with my team at the hotel and we have a car sent for us." Danielle tells Greg. "You don't have to worry. I'll see you later. Love you." She kisses Greg on the cheek. "It was nice meeting you both. Bye!" Danielle strolls out of the office.

"How do you know Danielle?" John is already quizzing Greg as soon as Danielle is out of ear shot.

"She's awesome isn't she?" Greg puffs up. "She's a childhood friend. I've known her all my life. Her family was based in England for a few years. Her mom was… Is friends with my mother. We ended playing together." Greg explains.

Sherlock's mind was still slightly stuck on the fact that his brother may or may not be attempting to _impress_ a woman… More facts must be taken into consideration and gathered in order to draw a sound conclusion… Mycroft didn't _do_ sentiment after all…

"Sherlock? Sherlock? You okay there, mate?" Greg asks, looking at Sherlock with a little concern.

"Sherlock?" John asks.

"Yes… Detective Inspector. Just- just contemplating." Sherlock answers.

"Care to share with the class? Is it about the case?" Greg asks.

"About Danielle and Mycroft." Sherlock answers point blank.

"Ah. Well, you didn't think you were the only one with a soldier, did you?" Greg smirks.


	2. One Hell of a First Impression

No One's POV

Danielle, call her Dani, she would demand immediately, walked into the MI6 Black Site, her card swiped at the gate, her pony tail swishing confidently as she strode into the imposing building, and her coffee cup in hand and backpack swung over her shoulder and gun holstered on her thigh recalling the first time she had come for the MI6 training.

_It wasn't uncommon for Danielle to be asked to attend various trainings or conferences around the world; she was one of the top Quantico trainers for the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation Department, and with her other qualifications as a prior Army Ranger, it was easy to see why they often sent her to these conferences._

_She had never been to England, however, for a work trip, but already she was wishing for home; it just wasn't home, also if she didn't get some fucking decent **coffee** she may just snap or shoot someone on accident. Her colleagues teased her that she was a coffee snob because she wouldn't drink the swill that they drank at the office, but sue her, she wasn't an **uncultured** swine like they were and had **standards**._

_England, on the other hand, lived up to their stereo type of tea. There was little good coffee to be found… Sure, coffee… But not **good** coffee. She wanted some bloody Starbucks or something… At the very **least**._

_The gun range at the MI6 was quiet as she walked in, it early enough that the MI6 agents had not yet arrived, no one except herself and her team, giving her time to prepare and gather her thoughts; hopefully enough that she wouldn't let her irritability affect her work._

_An almost silent and sudden appearance of a tall 6'1", impeccable dressed, severe faced man would have startled Danielle if it weren't for her almost hyper aware senses, born from her days of an Army Ranger and honed even further as a FBI Agent; three piece suit says important, dressed to impress, most likely has an important job, government work, then, most likely even the boss…_

_"Special Agent Danielle Anderson, I am to assume." The man speaks, his tone tilted with a British accent, but moreover, snobbish and self-important._

_"Yes, yes, that would be me." Danielle answers. "And you are?"_

_An intern walks in with a drink carrier full of several coffee cups, interrupting, before the man can answer._

_"Ah." The man sort of mutters. "It's good to see some competence around here." He adds, reaching for one of the cups._

_"Actually, sir-" The intern speaks, her voice hesitant and soft, clearly intimidated and not wanting to interrupt or correct the man's misinformation. "Those drinks are for-"_

_"The drinks are mine... Mine and my team's that is…" Danielle speaks up, her own hand reaching for the cups. "And if you touch my coffee, I'll **shoot** you." Danielle offers innocently, flashing an equally innocent smile._

_"Excuse me?" The man says, looking affronted._

_"Did I stutter?" Danielle offers back, raising a brow. "So, I suggest handing over the coffee. Because I'm really **not** a morning person."_

_"Do you know who I am?" The man raises his eye brow, his hand still reaching for a drink._

_"Hmmm… Let me take a guess." Danielle snarks, tapping her chin as if guessing. "Government official, in charge of MI6, which is why you are here… But, I really don't give a **fuck** at the moment. I haven't had any decent coffee since I got off the plane because I'm in bloody **England **and you all drink **tea** like heathens… So, if I don't get coffee I may actually shoot someone… Like one of your MI6 agents. Now, as I said before, it will be in your best interest to hand over the coffee…" At that, Danielle unholsters her Sig Sauer P226 and points it at the man with her left hand before she plucks up one of the coffee cups and takes a casual sip._

_"Feel free to fire me if you'd like… I'm a consultant… I can leave and return to the US." Danielle offers with a casual shrug, taking another sip of her coffee._

_"Let's go guys." She tells her team before walking further down the gun range, gun already holstered, its safety hadn't even been unclipped; as if she was **that** stupid. "Nice talking to you…" Danielle trails off as if indicating she doesn't know his name._

_"Mycroft Holmes… It was a pleasure meeting you, Special Agent Danielle Anderson. I shall leave you to enjoy your coffee." Mycroft offers as his feet recede._

In hindsight, pulling a gun on the British Government, wasn't her brightest idea… But, in her defense, she didn't know that at the time despite her deductions… _Semantics_.

Now, she just brought her own coffee, and by that, she smuggled it in her bags in the plane or she forced her best friend, Greg, to buy it for her; he knew a guy.

The gun range at the MI6 Black Site was a familiar sight to Danielle by now, just as the one at Quantico was, something innately comforting and reassuring by the recognizable targets, steel structure, Plexiglas, and resounding sounds of gunshots that surrounded them.

"Special Agent Anderson." A familiar voice speaks, catching Danielle's attention.

"Hello Mr. Holmes. You know, you can call me Dani. I think we've known each other for long enough. And, I'd like to think we are somewhat more than acquaintances." Danielle smiles at Mycroft Holmes who stands behind the gun lanes, where both her team and the MI6 agents are all lined up shooting.

"Dani, then. And you can call me, Mycroft, if you so wish." Mycroft answers with a small smile.

"Is everything alright? Are your accommodations to your liking?" Mycroft inquires, unable to help himself in asking.

"Yes, everything is just fine. I'm actually staying someplace else, however. With a friend. So, you'd have to ask my team. But so far, they haven't complained." Danielle jokes a little.

"I see. Please, do not hesitate to ask or come to me, if you need anything." Mycroft offers.

"We won't. Thank you. That is very considerate." Danielle smiles again.

"I- I have something for you. Just a small… Gift." Mycroft tells Danielle. "It's nothing really. I thought you may enjoy it, however. I simply remember you saying that you couldn't get decent coffee here." Mycroft continues awkwardly; for all his intelligence, position, and power, he didn't do sentiment or emotions well, and courting a women was beyond his ability evidentially.

"Oh… I-" Danielle seems a little speechless by the gesture; sure, they may not just be acquaintances, but they still didn't know each other _that_ well. "You didn't need to do this, though. Greg has his house stocked for me… He knows a guy. But this is very nice. Thank you, Mycroft. I appreciate the gesture."

"Greg gets it for me… He knows a guy." Mycroft mocks, beginning to mutter to himself like some bad Bond villain the moment Danielle turns her back on him, his phone already in his hand, and his fingers typing furiously. "Greg… Who the _bloody_ **_hell_** is _Greg!?_" Mycroft asks himself as the object of his _sentiment_ joins her co-workers; the name not coming up on his background check of her that he had ran eight months prior, clearly it was some over sight on his underlings... Utter _incompetence_. He was surrounded by _morons_.

Later, as the lights of the gun range dimmed and shut off, and Danielle and her team went their separate ways at the hotel, Danielle was unaware of the CCTV cameras that followed her ever move; Mycroft attempting to tell himself that this was only because he was concerned for her well-being like he would be for his brother, and _not_ at all stalker behavior.

A white, rather, non-descript Nissan Qashqai 2017 pulled up to the front of the hotel where the rest of the American FBI team was staying, it was obvious a male was occupying the driver's seat rather than a female, but the features either too far or not distinct enough to make out.

"Sir, you have a meeting to get to." Athena tells Mycroft, managing to startle him. "Sir… You aren't using the CCTV cameras to watching Special Agent Danielle Anderson are you?"

"Of- of course not!"

"Sir- if I may… That is becoming a bit stalkerish…"

"I'm only looking out for her!" Mycroft protests, but it sounds weak to his ears.

"That's how it all begins." Athena answers a bit blasé, giving her boss a look that says he's fooling absolutely _no one_.

"I'm not- I'm fine. I'll be right out." Mycroft huffs, glancing once more at the screen to see the car and Danielle gone.

Mycroft curses to himself quietly and cursed whoever this Greg was; he'd figure it out later he supposed. Who knew one woman would ever have this effect on him?

But, then again, Danielle Anderson wasn't like any other women. In a world of average goldfish, she had managed to be just a fraction brighter.

From the moment she hadn't backed down from him, raised her gun on him even, he had been mildly impressed, then further interactions had managed to gain his further interest even more; most people, men and women alike, were easily intimidated by him. Even the Prime Minister, although that didn't say much; the current Prime Minister was a weak-willed and an easily swayed man. Lady Smallwood was one of the few he had respect for and that was because she was one of the few who _wasn't_ easily intimidated by him, and even then, she was still often too easily swayed by his opinion and direction.

Agent Danielle Anderson, on the other hand, wasn't impressed by him, despite their later actions and seeming to know who he was, though she gracefully apologized for her earlier actions; yes, she certain had his interest and attention.

**_Coffee is life... And I'm pretty sure I'd threaten to shoot someone if you got in between me coffee... This is literally me during finals week..._**

**_I also have on fairly good authority that London's coffee, at least by the coffee snob that I am, does not have coffee to the standards I uphold... I live in a one of the top 10 ranked cities for coffee... So, if that doesn't say something... I don't know what does... And, I'm not saying we have a Starbucks on every corner (WE DO), but we also have like a million and one homegrown roasters ALSO on every corner... So, if you'd like some coffee... Take your pick..._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	3. The Friend Zone

No One's POV

"We definitely need to celebrate!" Greg demands, setting down two wine glasses and a bottle of his best friend's favorite wine, which he knew she couldn't resist.

"Celebrate what?"

"You being here! Come on, you're supposed to be the smart one!" Greg snorts.

"Fine. _But_, if you get me drunk… I'll kill you." Danielle threatens as she takes the offered glass with little to no will power.

"I'm- I'm sorry about your wife." Danielle slurs a little while later, it taking not much effort or time to get neither her nor Greg drunk; then again, they had consumed the entire bottle together, and then Greg had magically produced a _second_ bottle promptly after.

"It's- it's okay, Danibear…" Greg stumbles back in response. "She- she wasn't as nice as you… She didn't smell s'nice as you either… Or was good at cuddling… Danibear's good at cuddling…"

"Well, that's good… I guess. M' still sorry. I was work- working. Or I would have come… I could shoot her- for you?"

"No- no… I don't wanna visit you in jail… No cuddles then…" Greg shakes his head and wrapping his arms around Danielle.

"True. Cuddles are great!" Danielle nods as they manage to make it to Greg's master bedroom and flop in a heap on his bed, practically both asleep the moment their heads touch the pillow.

"Greg… I blame you." Danielle groans, rolling her best friend off her back and onto the floor, he'd always been such a cuddler, and Greg hitting with a loud thud.

"What the- fuck, Dani!?" Greg goes to yell, only to whisper as he feels the tell-tale thud of a headache. "Oh… _Owe_."

"Yeah… _Owe_. I _hate_ you." Danielle groans, flopping face first back into the pillows. "I _need_ coffee."

"Today's gonna be bloody _hell_…" Greg mutters where he hasn't moved from the floor.

"Again… Your fault… _Satan_…" Danielle mutters.

Danielle walks into the MI6 building, the darkest sunglasses she owned on her face, and attempting not to cringe as she felt like nails assaulted her brain at every noise and bright light.

Yeah, she was killing her best friend… Number one on her to-do list.

"Hey boss!" Will cheerfully slaps her on the back.

"Ah- no… _Don't_… I'll definitely kill someone. So, if you value your life…" Danielle cringes.

"Ooo, fun night?" Will grins and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"No- no, definitely wouldn't say that… No…" Danielle rubs her temples and downs more coffee.

"What happened?"

"Greg… Greg happened." Danielle mutters a little deadpanned. "So, in my defense, this was _all_ his bloody fault."

"Ah. What, he entice you with your favorite wine?"

"What can I say? I'm weak willed for a good glass of wine or a good cup of coffee… And Greg knows that." Danielle shrugs.

"Good god… There aren't _enough_ pain killers in the _world_ to get rid of the pounding in my brain. I feel like a herd of elephants is running through it." Danielle groans as they continue their trek, searching for her bottle of painkillers she packed. "Damn. Must have left them at home. Anyone else have some?"

"No… Nope, sorry boss." A chorus of negatives sound.

"This is going to be _hell_." Danielle groans as she tromps in after her team, unaware of Mycroft hearing her conversation as he had been lurking in the halls hoping to have a conversation with Danielle or get a glimpse of her, not unlike a _stalker_ or a girl with their first crush, a thought that sounded not unlike his PA said to him; shut up Athena, somewhere his brain mentally told him, he was _not_.

"For your head." Mycroft offers a while later, catching Danielle as she walks out of the conference room for a break. "I overheard your conversation with your team this morning. And, you look like you need it."

"Yeah… Rough night. Thanks." Danielle takes the offered bottle, opening it immediately, and taking out several pills to immediately down.

"Water?" Mycroft offers up a new bottle when it looks like Danielle is at the end of hers.

"I'd say your efficiency is scary if it weren't for the fact I'm normally like that too... Except not for today… I'm way too hungover…" Danielle comments with a small laugh and groan. "Also, you're an _amazing_ friend." Danielle smiles.

"Damn… They're all moving. I gotta go. Thank you for the drugs and extra water, My!" Danielle waves much more cheerily than she was before as she rushes off to the next seminar.

"_Friend?_" Mycroft mutters with a look, his gaze trailing after Danielle as if her words didn't quite compute.

**_In honor of Dani & Greg's amazing friendship over the years, I made a video. Youtube channel is my username._**

**_Also, to the guest reviewer! Thanks for catching my typo... I meant to say England for a work trip... Geeshe. Apparently I don't know my own darn timeline!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	4. Greg It's Always Greg

No One's POV

The MI6 conference was Mycroft's worst and greatest test of patience; it gave him several hours to observe and be around a certain Special Agent Danielle Anderson.

Yet, in the presence of her, he immediately turned into some bumbling _moron_, much to his PA, Athena's, amusement and his utter horror; talking to Danielle should _not_ be that difficult, he was a genius after all. Athena had witnessed his downfall one too many times for his comfort.

Were it not for the fact that the conference invited intelligence agencies from all around the world, Mycroft was sure many others would be able to witness his fall from grace. However, thankfully, no one was the wiser and even Special Agent Danielle Anderson, the object of his _sentiment_ seemed _also_ ignorant of the fact; that fact infuriating enough.

Danielle's light giggles echoed in the room, but even from the back of the large conference room they invaded Mycroft's ears, making him want to twitch and swivel his head to look, however, he resolutely remains focused on his work and laptop in front of him.

"_Pst_." Danielle nudges her coworker. "Look what Greg sent me." She shows her phone screen to Will.

"Now I've _officially_ seen everything on the internet…" She tells her teammates, the faint noise of a video playing, muffled by speakers.

"He asked if we ever did that… And why the bloody hell not." Danielle laughs.

"Did you?" Will asks, clearly asking the same question as Greg.

"We fucked around in our spare time… But definitely _not_ singing Barbie girl or Shark doo doo…" Danielle giggles again as she takes her phone back from her fellow FBI coworkers.

Mycroft admittedly didn't have a clue to as what they were talking about, and his fingers itched to check the security cameras, but managed to refrain.

It seemed like only twenty minutes later, Danielle's giggle interrupted Mycroft's concentration again, pulling him from his work.

"You losers would _totally_ play this." Danielle teases her coworkers as she tips her phone screen for them to see.

Will chuckles at the screen and the video of several trucks and cars playing football, English football, not American football.

"Duh." Will whispers back with a chuckle. "We should do it."

"And _this_ is why women live longer then men…" Danielle rolls her eyes and giggles as she takes her phone back and texts Greg, her fingers flying over her touch screen at a furious rate.

"But what a blaze of glory we'd go out in." Will sighs wishfully.

"Will, _no_." Danielle says.

"Will, _yes_." Will grins.

"There is no glory… Only stupidity…" Danielle deadpans as she texts Greg back and forth some more, clearly focused on her phone; it made Mycroft want to take her phone and pitch it in the Thames if only to stop the constant texting.

"Don't tell me… Greg actually _packed_ your lunch…"

"Maybe…" Danielle giggles again, pulling out the lunch Greg had packed, complete with a hand written note.

"And a note?" Nathan teases. "What's it say?" He asks, leaning over to try and look, like the nosey little brother he was to Danielle.

"Wouldn't you like to know? For my eyes only, Nate. Paws _off_." Danielle sasses back, pulling Nathan into a head lock and giving him a noogie before letting him go, the note tucked into her bra to hide it from him.

"Hey!" Nathan protests, rearranging his hair and glaring half-heartedly.

_Danibear,_

_Have a good day! Enjoy your lunch! Remember when we used to trade back and forth our Poptarts? Left you the best part… Which, I disagree, you heathen…_

_See you at home,_

_Greg_

Danielle giggles again before opening the Ziploc and eating the snack.

"What has you giggling like a school girl?"

"Nothing." Danielle grins, munching on her crusts of the Poptarts.

"Let me guess… Greg."

"It's not _my fault_ you don't have a Greg!" Danielle defends. "Greg is the best!"

"You two are _disgusting_. Like the couples you want to strangle because they are so sappy and romantic." Will scrunches his nose.

"Whatever." Danielle rolls her eyes; they didn't understand the relationship and bond her and Greg had, without Greg she may have never come home from Afghanistan.

Across the room, Mycroft attempts not to throw his laptop out the window or scream; he was fairly sure he was beginning to get a tic from hearing the name Greg.

"Sir… Do you not think this is a bit- over kill?" Athena asks her boss as he assembles a MI6 Black Ops team to spy on Danielle and Greg Lestrade; and yes, Athena knew the DI, not just from her interactions with the elder Holmes' younger brother, but because she was friends with Danielle.

Not that her boss knew that, it was also relative new, this was only the third trip to England Danielle had made.

"Athena, if you are only going to criticize, you don't need to be here… I'm merely- concerned…"

"Yes, of _course_, sir." Athena answers, wondering if she should tell Danielle about Mycroft's growing interest and obsession that was surly going to blow up in his face; then again, she was also in the betting pool for a large amount of money, maybe she should hold off just a bit longer.

**_In which this story just became the rom com movie This is War... HAHA!_**

**_I promise it has a plot though._**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**

**_P.S. If I didn't mention, Dani is played by Gal Gadot_**


	5. FBI Counter Terrorism & HRT Team

**_FBI Joint Counter Terrorism/HRT Team_**

Danielle "Dani" (Bravo Foxtrot) - Gal Gadot

William "Will" (Whiskey) - Scott Foley

Nathan "Nate" (Romeo) - Taron Edgerton

Steve (Echo Charlie) - Alex O'Laughlin

Thomas (Sigma Victor) - Tom Hiddleston

Daniel (Delta Tango) - Chris Pine

Kennex (Alpha) - Karl Urban

Liam (Zulu) - Colin Morgan

Alex (Rho) - Lydsy Fonseca

Blair (Juliet) – Michaela Conlin

Jennifer (India) - Hayden Panettiere


	6. Insider Knowledge

No One's POV

"Special Agent Anderson, a quick word?" Athena catches Danielle as she walks down the halls of the MI6 Black Site to leave with her team.

"Go ahead guys. I'll just be a second." Danielle waves to her team.

"Hello Athena… Or are you going by Andrea today? Perhaps Amy?" Danielle teases her friend. "And, I thought we agreed to only talk over text?"

Danielle was one of the few people, if not the only person outside of her employer Mycroft Holmes, to be trusted with her real name; Danielle had figured out the name she had given her, Andrea at the time, wasn't her real name anyways, something that most people didn't. As they say, the best lies are given with a grain of truth, which is why Athena always went with names beginning with 'A's'.

"I think you should take a look at this… Interesting news today. Quite a read." Athena offers, holding out what would seem to be an innocent rolled up newspaper.

"Athena-" Danielle's gaze sharpens, her gaze and tone losing all jovial manner.

"My boss will probably kill me if he finds out… But, I figured you probably would want to know if someone was keeping a file on you. Give me a heads up if you decided to assassinate a government official… You know what it does to the traffic." Athena offers with a slight joking tone.

"And, just _how_ worried should I be about this _file?_" Danielle asks, as they begin to walk again, coming out of the office Athena had pulled the two of them into.

"My boss is nothing but a picture of propriety and restraint… Seeing him… And his poor attempts to gain your attention is the highlight of my day. But, if you _were_ to turn him down, I don't believe you'll have a stalker threat on your hands. Not that I doubt your ability to handle him…" Athena offers with a tilt of her lips. "Do me a favor, wait till after the 16th. I have a significant amount of money in the MI6 betting pool. Plus, the Great Mycroft Holmes needs to work for something in his life."

"Doesn't that count as insider knowledge?"

"If MI6 can cheat, so can I."

"You're running the betting pool, aren't you?" Danielle raises her brow.

"Possibly."

"You're as bad as your boss." Danielle complains.

"Where do you think I learned all my tricks?" Athena smirks.

"And just as terrifying. Clearly…" Danielle offers, the two finally making it outside.

"Ah, Athena, there you are I was-" Mycroft looks up from his phone, standing next to their private car. "Danielle-" He looks startled, nearly falling from where he was leaning against his umbrella.

"Hello Mycroft." Danielle manages to hide a small giggle at the head of the British Government's expense.

"Uh, yes. Hello." Mycroft coughs, straightening his suit.

"Text me about coffee and lunch, Athena." Danielle smiles before walking over to her team.

"Coffee? Lunch?" She distantly hears Mycroft demand, Danielle smirking to herself; that was for not telling her earlier that Mycroft _Holmes_ was spying on her.

Athena curses her friend silently in her mind as her boss all but starts the second inquisition on her as they get into his private car.

"Yes, coffee and lunch. We're friends."

"_Friends!?_" Mycroft says the word like one would say a bad word.

"Yes. Friends. I'm sure you're aware of the concept, sir."

"Of course I'm aware of the concept… Since when are you and Special Agent Anderson friends?" Mycroft demands, giving his PA a look.

"I don't know. It just- happened, sir. We got to talking. And I showed her one of my favorite lunch places. It has good coffee." Athena shrugs, typing placidly away on her phone, confirming Mycroft's schedule for the next day or so.

"Then- then why haven't you been helping me!?"

"I _have_ been helping you, sir… You decided to bring in MI6." Athena deadpans.

"I was-"

"_Concerned_, yes… And need I remind you… I said it was a stupid idea." Athena offers.

"Well, I don't need your opinion."

"Besides, she has Greg." Athena offers after a few minutes of silence in the car, their gazes meeting over Athena's phone.

"You know… Greg?" Mycroft's voice is cutting in the silence of the car after another silent moment.

"I thought you didn't want my opinion, sir." Athena barely contains her smug tone and look, Mycroft merely giving her a look. "Have a good night, sir…" Athena offers as the car slides up to her flat, the door shutting behind her.

**_Please remember to review! Because reviews are life!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	7. Weekend Plans

No One's POV

"So… You come here often, darling?" Greg teases his best friend, his arms wrapping around her as she sits on a bar stool in his kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.

"Oh, _wow_. With a pick up line like that I'm amazed you ever got a date…" Danielle laughs, throwing her head back in a laugh.

"You wound me, Dani." Greg replies dramatically. "Anyways, have any plans this weekend?"

"What do _you_ think, Greg?"

"Great. Well, I made plans." Greg grins. "You and me… Beach. How does that sound?"

"Hmm. I think that I like the sound of that." Danielle smiles.

"Perfect. I'll pick you up after work. I took the day off so I could pack for us." Greg replies.

"You're sweet." Danielle smiles.

"Now, come on. I'll drop you off." Greg offers, grabbing his keys.

"Hello Danielle." Mycroft greets Danielle as she walks into the MI6 Black Site.

"Hello Mycroft." Danielle greets the always put together boss of the MI6 teams and the unspoken head of the British Government; she often wondered why he even attended these things, it wasn't like he actively did leg work or needed to be at them, other than maybe for the beginning and end of the conferences. _Surely_ he had much better things to be doing; she wondered briefly if it was because of her, but pushed the thought out of her mind, certainly she wasn't _that_ interesting and she wasn't as arrogant to truly believe that.

"May I ask for a moment of your time?" Mycroft asks, straightening his back in an almost unperceptive gesture.

"Sure." Danielle smiles, managing to flip her coworkers off as they cat call her and whistle; they were such pain in the asses sometimes.

"So, what do you need?"

"I was hoping to discuss further liaisons with your team and MI6. Perhaps on a more regular basis."

"Oh." Danielle seems to be taken aback.

"There is an ongoing case… I was hoping your team may assist on." Mycroft explains further.

"My team would be more than willing to provide assistance." Danielle answers, silently wondering if the only reason he was asking was because he liked her.

"I'll have Athena bring you the files to look over, then." Mycroft answers.

"My team will look over them as soon as possible."

"Thank you." Mycroft offers politely. "So, do you have any plans for this weekend?" Mycroft asks conversationally, taking his PA's advice to actually try to have a decent conversation with his… Object of affection… Or, perhaps even muster up the courage to ask her out for a date.

"I do actually. Greg and I are going away for the weekend. What about you?"

"Just work, I'm afraid. I'm terribly boring." Mycroft answers; work, apparently that was all he would be doing this weekend, other than attempting to not stare at CCTV cameras for the duration of Danielle's trip.

"I'm sure you're not, Mycroft. I heard somewhere you were once MI6. You could probably show up some of these rookies." Danielle teases.

"I appreciate the flattery. But it has been many years since my active years."

"And I'm sure you're just being modest." Danielle teases again. "I've heard stories."

"Perhaps." Mycroft answers, his lips twitching with amusement. "I may have some."

"You'll have to share sometimes." Danielle offers. "Damn. I'm going to be late. Send me those files." She looks at her watch.

"You know what I love about conferences?" Will says a bit rhetorically as they drive back to their hotel.

"The forced inter-agency bonding?" Nathan sasses.

"The crappy food?" Blair adds in as she texts on her phone.

"Shut up, Nate. No, the free time." Will rolls his eyes. "Four days of exploring… Doing anything fun, boss?" Will asks Danielle.

"Yes, actually." Danielle smiles as the hotel comes into sight distance. "Greg took time off. He planned a vacation. So, while you suckers are stuck here… I'll be soaking up some sun rays on a beach." Danielle smirks as she steps out of their SUV with her pack; the team was stuck sharing one car, so unless they all agreed to go somewhere or simply coordinated their use of the car, they were confined to Central London area. "Speaking of which, there's my ride… See you losers." Danielle teases, blowing a kiss as she walks towards Greg's car.

"Hey sweetheart, ready to go?" Greg opens his car door, putting his sunglasses, instead of his normal dress shirt and tie, wearing a leather jacket and simple t-shirt.

"Hey Greg! I am!" Danielle bounces up to her best friend, arms sliding around his neck to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Great, let's hit the road. It'll only be an hour or so. I even have coffee for you." Greg offers, arms sliding around Danielle with ease.

"Awe, you _do_ know me!" Danielle coos as Greg leads her around to her side of the car.

"I'd be more offended by that statement if I didn't get hourly updates of today, Dani…" Greg offers, opening her car door for her.

"Love you too, Greg."

"Coffee's in the cup holder." Greg points as he jingles his keys and shuts the passenger side of the door to walk to his side of the car to get in.

"Are we _sure_ they aren't dating?" Nate asks turning to the rest of the Joint Counter Terrorism and HRT team.

Greg Lestrade, as in one Detective Inspector _Gregory Lestrade_, the same one his younger brother helped with on cases, was the one Danielle would rather spend time with then him; to add insult to injury, Athena knew before him.

Mycroft screamed a few profanities and then threw several documents off his desk in his rage.

"Sir- sir, are you all right?" Athena's voice asks from behind his door.

"I- yes… Yes, thank you, Athena. I'm fine." Mycroft composes himself, smoothing down his suit and picking up his papers to reorganize them neatly; he was the exact _opposite_ of fine.

"Actually, I'm going out, Athena. Please call my car." Mycroft asks.

"Yes, sir." Athena holds in a sigh, no doubt this was about Danielle; whatever Mycroft was planning was not going to end well.

"Mycroft… What an unpleasant surprise. What do you want?" Sherlock demands.

Mycroft waits a moment, clearly uncomfortable.

"Do- do you know Special Agent Danielle Anderson?" Mycroft finally asks.

"Dani?" John pipes in, sitting straighter in his usual red chair.

Sherlock and Mycroft are still locked in their normal stares.

"Please, Sherlock. This is humiliating enough…"

"You- you _like_ her?" Sherlock questions, his voice inflecting high as if disbelieving. "Sounds like sentiment. I thought you didn't do _goldfish_, Mycroft."

"Danielle isn't a goldfish." Mycroft snaps.

Sherlock merely raises a brow and smirks at his brother as if he was a cat that got the canary and the cream.

"I- Please. I need your help…"

"I can't help you… I don't do emotions any more than you do… Did." Sherlock corrects a bit smugly.

"She's with DI Lestrade!" Mycroft snarls.

"With?" John offers, clearly confused. "They're best friends…"

"What!?" Mycroft asks, looking confused.

"Greg introduced us. The day Dani arrived... Childhood best friends." John offers, still clearly confused, as if left out of the joke or not understanding the punch line.

"Nonsense, John." Sherlock now looks as confused as Mycroft feels. "The signs are all there. The hugging, kissing, the pet names…" Sherlock lists one by one.

"Yeah, well, they've been friends for a _long_ time, Sherlock. _Honestly_." John rolls his eyes, laughing a little. "Have you two- of course you haven't…" He mutters at both of the Holmes' confused looks.

"They just went on vacation together." Mycroft points out.

"Yes, because that's what friends do together." John answers patiently.

"All the data I have gathered suggests-" Mycroft begins.

"Gathered?" John interrupts.

"Yes, I have a file." Mycroft waves off.

"Oh dear god… You _do_ need help." John sighs.

**_I'm back!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


	8. Beach Day

No One's POV

"Morning Silver Fox." Danielle walks out to the porch that overlooks the calm waters of Bournemouth England Beach. "I see you made me coffee." Danielle holds up her coffee cup.

"Hmm." Greg hums back in lieu of a greeting, flipping through the newspaper, his reading glasses on. "You know, you _don't_ have to remind me, Dani. I mean, what 41 year old do _you_ know who has grey hair? It's bad enough I already need reading glasses." He complains.

"Just you. But, I think it gives you a classy, refined look. Besides, you're _my_ Silver Fox." Danielle sits in Greg's lap, lifting his glasses off his face and running her hands through his hair.

"Fine." Greg grumbles.

"It's cute when you pout… _Old man_."

"That's it! I'll show _you_ old!" Greg demands, lifting Danielle over his shoulder and toting her into the beach house.

"No! My coffee!" Danielle screeches, hitting Greg on the back in outrage.

"I'll make you more, princess."

"Beach time!" Danielle screams like a little kid, racing down the beach strip, and leaving Greg to carry their blankets and picnic basket.

"You _could_ have helped…"

"Nah." Daniele collapses on the blanket Greg had just laid out for them.

"You're such a child sometimes…" Greg rolls his eyes, propping himself up on his side.

"I _am_ five years younger." Danielle points out with a smirk.

"For that, you don't get the cookies I packed." Greg teases.

"No cookies! How will I go on!?" Danielle gasps dramatically. "Fine… Then you don't get cuddles." She pushes Greg off the blanket before hopping off the blanket and dashing off, but not before shedding her swimsuit cover, Greg quickly making chase.

"Gotcha!" Greg's arms sweep around his best friend, hauling her over his shoulder, making her scream and giggle.

"Do I get cuddles now?"

"Do I get cookies?" Danielle tilts her head.

"You drive a hard bargain, Special Agent Anderson…" Greg ponders, his arms wrapped tightly around her, the metal from his "best friend" ring smooth from being in a pocket or around his ring finger, warm from being worn around his finger, and now flush against her bare skin.

"Why do you do that?" Danielle suddenly switches topics.

"Do what?" Greg asks, noticing her sudden stillness in his arms and the change in tone.

"When we cuddle and sleep together… Your hand is always- you know- here…" Danielle gestures to where his left hand rests over her rib cage and her rather uneven, four inch scar.

"I almost _lost_ you, Dani… Those few hours when I didn't know. When I got the call. I don't think I've ever been more afraid… But you lived. You _survived_. And this scar is a reminder of how strong you are, how amazing you are… But it doesn't mean it doesn't scare me." Greg answers.

"Oh." Danielle looks down at their hands and their matching rings; hers which hangs with her ever present dog tags around her neck.

"You know… I only made it out of Afghanistan because of you." Danielle plays with her ring.

"When we were in Landstuhl, you were still unconscious from surgery, it was the first time I saw that you still had our rings." Greg replies, his hand coming to rest on her own ring. "I didn't mention it. But…"

"Yeah… Well, I'm pretty sure you were my good luck charm." Danielle smiles, turning to look at Greg. "It got me through some pretty tough spots... You pulled me back, because in the end, we always come back to each other."

"We do. _Always_." Greg promises, their heads leaning in together, foreheads touching.

"Let's go eat." Danielle suggests, grabbing Greg's hand.

Like a cliché scene from a movie, rain began to fall from the skies above.

"Are you serious?" One of the MI6 agents questions out loud, disbelieve clear in their tone.

"Can they _be_ anymore cliché? Do they _plan_ this stuff?" Another one asks.

"So, who wants to tell the boss?" There is dead silence in the reconnaissance van at that question.

"So much for our beach day." Danielle squeals at they dash towards their stuff.

"We got all weekend, sweetheart." Greg promises, their hands still linked as they run.

"Wait-" Greg pauses.

"What- Greg, we're getting soaked!" Danielle protests.

Greg simply pulls his phone out, pushing a few buttons before music pours out of the small speakers.

_I'm jealous of the blue jeans that you're wearing,  
And the way they're holding you so tight.  
I'm jealous of the moon that keeps on staring,  
So lock the door and turn out the night._

"Dance with me." Greg sweeps Danielle into his arms.

_I want you all to myself,  
We don't need anyone else.  
Let our bodies do the talking,  
Let our shadows paint the wall.  
I want you here in my arms,  
We'll hide away in the dark.  
Slip your hand in my back pocket,  
Go and let your long hair fall.  
I want you all to myself, to myself._

"You're a _sap_, Greg Lestrade." Danielle giggles, allowing Greg to spin her in the wet sand and steady rain.

"Never mind… I stand fully corrected. They _can_ get more cliché…" The same MI6 agent deadpans, watching Special Agent Danielle Anderson and DI Lestrade dance in the rain. "I _hate_ our job."

_I'm jealous of the song that you've been singing,  
And the way it's rolling off your lips.  
It might be selfish, but I'm thinking,  
I don't need nothing between you,  
Leaning for another kiss, yeah._

_I want you all to myself,  
We don't need anyone else.  
Let our bodies do the talking,  
Let our shadows paint the wall.  
I want you here in my arms,  
We'll hide away in the dark.  
Slip your hand in my back pocket,  
Go and let your long hair fall.  
I want you all, all, all to myself, to myself, yeah._

Mycroft clenches his fist tightly, nearly snapping his pen in half as he watches and listens to the tape that his MI6 team had recorded of Danielle and Gregory Lestrade the day before and their… _Beach day_…

"Fine." Mycroft mutters to himself. "If _that_ is how things are going to be then…" He mutters further. "_Two_ can play this game, DI Lestrade. All is fair in love and war they say… Athena, please get John Watson on the phone for me."

"Yes, sir." Athena answers. "May I ask why?" She asks.

"No." Mycroft answers.

The tell-tale silence tells Mycroft that his PA has already deduced the reason why; she was far _too_ competent these days, if there was such a thing.

"Hello John." Mycroft greets without much preamble. "_Trojan Horse_ is a go."

**_All to Myself ~ Dan and Shay_**


	9. The Watsons

No One's POV

"John, Mary, what a surprise!" Greg greets with a jovial tone, waving at the couple who are now only a few feet away, and walking down the sidewalk.

"Hey mate. What are you doing out here?" John walks up with Mary, his arm around his wife.

"Oh, Dani is just finishing up in there. I'm waiting for her. In fact, here she is." Greg offers, Danielle walking out with a small bag in hand.

"What's going- oh, hey John!" Danielle smiles at the Captain, her arm coming around Greg as Greg takes her bag.

"Hey Dani, nice to see you! This is my wife, Mary. Mary, this is Dani. I've told you about her. She's Greg's best friend from the States." John greets and introduces Danielle to his wife.

"_Told_ is a nice way to put it, dear." Mary rolls her eyes teasingly. "You don't stop talking about her. If we weren't married I'd be worried." Mary jokes more. "It's lovely to meet you." She offers her hand to Danielle.

"I- Mary you said?" Danielle asks, offering her hand as she looks at Mary Watson, something like unease or a warning flaring in her mind for a reason she can't particularly name, but she knew better than to question it for that feeling had saved her ass more times than she could count.

"Yes, Mary. Mary Watson." Mary confirms.

"Well… Nice to meet you." Danielle finally answers, her hand sliding into Mary's, their gaze meeting for a beat.

It was in that moment, Danielle saw nothing in Mary Watson's eyes, nothing but a blank slate, cold eyes; a perfectly crafted façade of someone else's life, but certainly not her own, if she even remembered it. It was a look Danielle had seen in a very few, but in those few it was dangerous, deadly, lethal, and the blast radius would destroy whoever was in its path.

It was in the agents, in the soldiers who had been in war and in the game too long; and often, _too_ often, it ended in tragedy, in death, or in being hunted down by the very _agencies_ and **_comrades_** who they promised to die for, to protect, and to serve.

"So, what are you guys doing here, John?" Greg breaks the silence, bringing Danielle's attention elsewhere.

"Oh, I thought I'd treat Mary to a day out. I've been busy with Sherlock. Especially since Mycroft just gave us a new case." John lies; _technically_ that wasn't a complete lie, Mycroft _had_ given Sherlock a new case, but John had also offered to come to Bournemouth Beach in hopes to bump into Greg and Danielle and help sort out all this nonsense out that Mycroft had in his mind about them _dating_.

It was at _least_ better than the Black Ops MI6 team that he had assembled to _spy_ on the both of them… Not that they were doing well with gathering information. John almost felt bad for the man; Mycroft was clearly out of depth for all his genius he possessed he was absolutely clueless.

"Ah. That's nice." Greg nods along, clearly none the wiser to John's small white lie.

"What are you two up to?" John asks pleasantly.

"Just window shopping." Greg answers. "How about you two?"

"Just heading to lunch. Why don't you join us?" John invites using it as an opportunity to get more information about Danielle.

"Sure. Dani?" Greg asks.

"Hmm? Oh. Sure… Yeah." Danielle nods, flashing a smile.

"You okay?" Greg questions, noticing his best friend's absent minded behavior.

"Fine. Everything's fine." Danielle waves off as they follow John and Mary down the walk.

"Hey, what are you doing? What's got you so serious over there?" Greg questions his best friend who's typing away on her laptop while he sits comfortably in another chair reading a book after a nice day strolling the boardwalk and all around town and lunch with the Watsons; it was now evening and the both of them settled in their beach house Greg had rented for their weekend.

"Just work. So, hey, how much do you know about Mary?"

"Mary? Well… Not much to be honest. I mean, John met her during- when Sherlock was gone. It- it was a rough time. For all of us… But for John especially. So- she really helped. She's a nurse. Worked at his clinic, I think. That's how they met." Greg offers a bit offhandedly with a shrug, easily filling in his best friend the information he knew without much thought on the matter.

"Oh, that's nice." Danielle hums as she types away on the FBI database. "So, they knew each other the entire time, then?"

"No. It was a pretty short engagement. Six months about… Something like that. I didn't meet her except once. Mary Morstan was her surname… Why so curious?" Greg questions, looking over his book.

"She looked familiar, that's all." Danielle offers, giving Greg her own small white lie, typing the name into the FBI database. "Thought I may have known her."

The thing about uncover was, despite it being safer, human nature was human nature and it was hard to deny; and humans were creatures of _habit_. Therefore we didn't like veering too far from habit.

Mary was a common name, but _Morstan_ was not.

**_FBI Most Wanted_**

_Affiliations: Former Central Intelligence Agency of the United States of America, Contract Assassin_

_Born: Rosamund Mary Morstan_

_DOB: February 28, 1984_

_Known Alias: Rosamund Mary, Amanda Morstan, Mary Jane_

_Last Seen: Nepal, South Asia_

A sharp intake of breathe from Danielle has Greg looking up from his book with concern.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah… Fine." Danielle answers, quickly taking her phone out to send off a few quick messages.

_A storm is brewing_. – Bravo Foxtrot

**Prepare for imminent impact?** – Whiskey

_Negative. Batten down the hatches. We'll debrief with I return._ – Bravo Foxtrot

**_Wow... Look at this! I actually have a plot! Lols. I told you guys I had one! It was just among the many bunny trails..._**

**_Also, reviews are lovely!_**

**_Polkadottedgiraffe11_**


End file.
